


So Much More

by Luxie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxie/pseuds/Luxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgetting female werewolves go into heat and getting locked in the cellar with Erica during said heat was really just the latest screw-up in a long and impressive line of screw-ups Derek had made lately. So he's pretty sure it's a punishment when Stiles comes to his rescue, except it feels a lot like a reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much More

Derek had never thought of himself as an intelligent guy. Tactical, yes. Able to think on his feet? Absolutely. He had to admit that some decisions had been a bit sketchy and more than once had he made it up as he went, but even then it had been years since he last thought of himself as a moron.

But that changed exactly six months after he had turned Erica and the girl werewolf went into full blown Heat, infusing everything in Beacon Hill with her pheromones.

It was an unforgivable mistake, because Derek _did_ remember. He remembered when he was younger and the women in his family would disappear for a month at a time twice a year. And he remembered when Laura left him alone for the first time after the fire, how he had tried to be a grown up about it, but in reality it scared the hell out of him.

Had he really been so busy repressing his past that something so fundamental had slipped his mind?

By the time Erica calls him - her voice shaking with a mixture of rage and fear, demanding to know why the hell Boyd and Isaac are currently trying to rip each other to shreds in the pack's lair - everything from the steel plating of the train wagons to the very air in the railway depot is soaked with the scent of female in heat.

The strong winds are spreading Erica's scent all over town in no time and Derek can smell it from several miles out, the effect of the pheromones even more potent on him as the Alpha male, and instead of going closer he calls Erica back up.

"Can you get out?" He growls, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

"I can try. Are they going to hurt me?" Erica asks and it's hardly more than a whisper. Derek can hear her frantic heartbeat even through the phone.

"Not as long as they're busy fighting over rights." Derek admits and it's the best he can give her, because the scent of a female in Heat literally drives male werewolves crazy, taking away every shred of control. Especially when they're young and new like Boyd and Isaac.

"Go to Stiles' house." He says as he gets back in behind the wheel of the Camaro. "Take a shower and try to clean off as much of your own scent as you can."

"Stiles? He'll be more liable to shoot me!"

"I'll call ahead."

"I don't think..."

" _Don't worry about it_. Just do as I say and meet me at my house."

"Meet you? Derek..."

"I know the risk!" He growls back. "But I need to lock you up. If you stay in town the pack will find you and if you run off there'll be strays."

"Can't you just leave the key and I'll lock myself up?"

"I'm sorry, Erica. But I can't trust you with that. You feel normal now, but in a day or so the urge to mate will be too strong and you'll try to break out. I need to make sure you're secure."

The cellar under the Hale house has its entrance a few hundred feet away from the house itself and the inner rooms are sealed off with a heavy steel door designed to keep in smell and sound. Derek hasn't been down here since Kate held him here for torture in the prison cell. The other two cells down here used to be furnished and cozy, but mold and water damage has ruined everything in the years Derek had been away. He quickly empties one cell and drops a stack of blankets and a mattress on the cold cement floor. He leaves the bag of food in the corner of the cell before he goes back outside, listening for Erica's approach; He wants to make sure he knows she's incoming so he doesn't get hit by her scent full on with out a warning.

Even though she smells like she literally showered in Stiles deodorant when she arrives, the pheromones still punch him right in the face and he has to warn her to back away with a snarl, which is all he can manage at the time.

"Get inside!" He growls when he's able for form coherent thoughts again. He knows everything will only get so much worse once they're both inside the enclosed cellar, but he manages to reel the wolf back in and hold his breath, diving into the darkness after Erica.

When Derek shoves her into the cell she glares at him with all the indignation of a teen girl. "This is stupid Derek. I can't stay here for a month..."

Derek doesn't answer her because he doesn't have breath to spare, just yanks the bared door between them shut. His lungs are demanding to be used and he's getting dizzy, but he still takes the time to make sure the barred door to her cell is securely locked.

The wind outside has picked up, even making the heavy steel door creak on its hinges and Derek takes comfort in the fact that Erica's scent will be blown out of town over night if the storm keeps up.

What Derek isn't factoring in is the heavy door slamming shut and the steel crossbar slipping down and blocking the door from the outside, trapping him and Erica in complete darkness.

**************************************

The first time Stiles meets Scott after getting the call from Derek and having Erica show up in his room, demanding a shower, is at morning practice the next day. Stiles is hardly through the door to the locker room before he finds himself shoved forcefully against a locker, Scott crowding into his personal space like he thinks he belongs there.

Stiles tries to push his friend away, forgetting for a moment who he's dealing with, but he's reminded in full when he catches a gimps of Scott's amber eyes.

"Holy shit, Wolfenstein, would you control yourself!" He demands and Stiles' voice is a lot steadier than he feels, because it's been a while since Scott couldn't control his wolf. But even then Stiles remembers clearly the times Scott tried to kill him.

"Why do you smell like that?" Scott growls and shakes his head in confusion.

"Like what? Oh, like Erica! Right? She stopped by my house to shower because of that Heat thing. Am I covered in her pheromones now?" And Stiles is actually really excited about that, because unsurprisingly the only interesting things that goes on in Beacon Hill has to do with werewolves and Stiles has to admit that he's getting a bit addicted to all the new supernatural shenanigans going on these days.

He loses a bit of that excitement, however, when Scott leans in and rests his forehead against Stiles' shoulder breathing in deeply. "Yes, you're covered in her pheromones."

"Sooo, oh. I should really go shower then." Stiles concludes just as Scott fingers finds Stiles' hipbone, eyes still gleaming golden.

"You should have showered yesterday, you moron." Scott growls and forces himself to pull away. "Go shower. Now!"

And Stiles doesn't need to be told twice. He runs off, falling and scrambling back to his feet. He doesn't bother taking off his clothes, just turns on the nearest shower and dives under the spray, clinging on to the tiles on the wall to keep from slipping to the floor.

When Scott appears in the entrance to the showers his eyes are back to their usual dark brown and he's looking confused and a bit ashamed, which frankly, Stiles can't blame him for.

"What the hell is going on, Stiles?" He asks.

"Erica is in Heat." Stiles explains and it's pretty thin, but it's the best he can do, because Derek wasn't really in a sharing mood when he called yesterday. "Pheromones all over, fucking up your wolf-brains."

"Where's Derek?"

"He was going to meet Erica." Stiles says and tries to decipher the worried look that appears on Scott's face. "You think he's creepy enough to stay with her?"

"I think he might not have been able to leave." Scott corrects. "Those pheromones were really strong. If I hadn't been able to smell you under them..." And it's a really uncomfortable silence that follows, one where neither teen feels much like looking the other in the eyes.

"Well, I think we can all agree that it's an epically bad idea if you go looking for them." Stiles points out and brushes a hand through his soaked hair. "So I'll go after school."

Scott just nods, but Stiles can see the guilt still there. "Hey, you go be with Allison after school, okay? Work off some of that tension." He jokes and luckily Stiles' smiles are contagious like the damn plague and Scott can't help but smile back.

******************************

Stiles parks the jeep outside the Hale house ten hours later. Everything seems quiet; no trace of werewolves or hunters anywhere. He walks around the house, but it's completely empty, which isn't really much of a surprise, because Derek hasn't lived here for more than six months.

When Stiles is sure there is no one in the house he walks back out to his jeep and starts it back up. He sits for a few minutes planning his next move and that's when he spots it; the entrance to the creepy Hale cellar where Peter said Kate held Derek way back when. He shuts the engine off again and walks closer.

The rusty barred door is unlocked, creaking in the storm like in some creepy horror movie. Stiles can't really see more than a few feet into the thick darkness of the corridor and even though all fibers in his body yells at him that this is a horrible idea it doesn't stop him. Because Stiles is the kind of guy who goes looking for corpses in the woods, goes face to face with a psychopathic Alpha and always plunges into trouble head first and if he were ever to slow down and listen to reason he wouldn't be Stiles, now would he?

Just a few feet into the darkness he finds the heavy steel door. It's closed and locked from the outside, blocked with a heavy steel bar. Stiles isn't even sure he can lift it and even then he's not sure that he should. What if Erica is safely locked inside? In that case it would be a cataclysmically bad idea to let her out.

Oh, well. _Cataclysmically_ is a really strong word and anyway, Erica didn't seem like she was really in the mood to get jumped by her pack, so even if she's in there it's not very likely she'll be too keen to get out, Stiles decides.

The steel bar is actually every bit as heavy as it looks, but Stiles manages to wedge it up enough to open the door and peek into more darkness. He's not being attacked by a crazed fem-wolf so he risks opening the door further and slipping into the darkness. He considers for a moment if he should close the door for good measures, but opts instead for the light that falls in though the slid.

Erica is sitting leaned against the wall on a mattress in a 20 by 20 cell, complete with mold and water damage by the smell of it. Behind Stiles the door catches the wind which blows it all the way open, letting the grey daylight reveal the rest of the cellar.

"Stiles?" Erica asks, disbelief in her voice. "How - no, never mind, just find the keys." She gets to her feet and presses against the thick steel bars of her cell. "Derek threw them on the floor after he locked himself in."

As if to draw attention to himself in the cell next to Erica's Derek lets out a deep growl followed by a painful and half choked moan. Stiles moves closer, closing his fingers around the cold metal of the bars. With the dim light he can just spot the shape of Derek, crouching in the corner furthest away from Erica.

"Just leave him alone, Stiles." Erica warns. "There's no point in trying to distract him. I tried for hours."

"I'd be moaning in pain too if I had to listen to your voice for hours." Stiles bites back.

"I could have you moaning for a lot of reasons." Erica counters and Stiles might blush a little, because really?

"What's wrong with him?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

" _Is he hurt_?" Stiles rephrases and stresses the words so even Erica's screwed little brain can't misinterpret them.

"Here I offer you epic sex and you're worried about Derek?" Erica pouts, but sighs when Stiles just glares at her. "He's not hurt, he's stubborn. Don't feel sorry for him, it's his own stupid fault."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's been stuck in here with a female in Heat all night, sweetie. And he's being an idiot about it, locking himself in a separate cell and refusing to jerk off." She tilts her head and Stiles can see her huge eyes shining amber in the semi-darkness, cue that she' not completely in control of her inner spirit wolf. "Basically he's been hard for twenty four hours with out getting off once. I assume his balls are blue by now."

Stiles swallows and looks around the cellar, eyes searching the floor for the keys. He spots them by the opposite wall and dives to pick them up, but just then Erica yells "No!" voice full of panic and he turns just in time to see the slid of light shrinking into nothing. Then he hears the metallic bang of the door slamming shut, the heavy steel bar clanging down and bolting the door shut again, leaving them in complete darkness.

"Oh, that is just perfect!" Erica hisses. "The two of you, honestly. How can you both be that stupid?"

"Shut up!" Stiles snaps and he feels a lot braver knowing that Erica is locked away behind steel bars. "I'll get us all out... You just sit tight in your little puppy pen, She Wolf."

"Yeah, right. I forgot, you're Batman. How did that work out for you last time, hu? I vaguely remember you almost getting us all killed."

Stiles can hardly see his own hand in front of his eyes, but he can clearly see Erica's golden eyes and white teeth ten feet away. Her smile is more feline than feral, bright in the darkness and for a second she reminds Stiles of a Cheshire cat. "You might as well get comfy, find a nice, moldy patch of floor and enjoy the Derek Hale Sexually Frustrated Show. We should make bets on how long it'll take before he caves in and gets off."

"Oh my God! Do you ever shut up?"

"Says you!" She laughs. "But really, you don't need a super nose to be able to smell that, do you Stiles? The musky smell of sweat and precome."

Stiles licks his lips absently, but is suddenly very aware of his breathing and the rapid increase in his heart rate, especially as Erica laughs and purrs, "Well, who would have thought."

And Stiles wants to shoot her down, wants to let her know exactly how wrong she is, but the problem is that he's not really able to find any good reasons why Derek strung out of his mind with lust, moaning and panting just a few feet away is having this effect on him.

Trying to divert his own attention he gets on his hands and knees, feeling his way across the floor for the keys. It doesn't take long to find them since he knows approximately where to aim and he scrambles his way back to Derek's cell door, on all four.

"You've got to be kidding me! Forget about Derek, he's basically useless right now." Erica groans. "Don't you _listen_? Unlock my door and I can bust us out."

"If Derek couldn't bust you out I doubt you'll have more luck, so how about you _shut up_ and let the one not locked in a cage call the shots?" Stiles counters, getting back on his feet.

"Shut up, both of you!" Derek suddenly growls and in the enclosed cellar it's almost deafening.

"Derek?" Stiles grabs the bars to Derek's cell, pressing against them in a futile attempt to see into the darkness, to catch a glimpse of Derek. It's a decision he regrets pretty instantaneously, however, as he feels hot breath on his face and supernaturally strong fingers grabbing the front of his shirt, roughly pulling him closer to the cold steel and warm werewolf on the other side of the bars.

Derek is breathing heavily, letting out a low, raw growl that has Stiles shivering and maybe it's not completely out of fear. But it should be, because Derek's eyes are flashing red and Stiles doesn't doubt that there are currently fangs involved.

"Um, Derek?" Stiles tries, willfully ignoring the way Derek is currently sniffing him.

"Just keep still." Erica warns. "You can't smell and hear what I can, so just _trust_ me. _Keep. Still_."

"Is he going to kill me for getting between him and his female?" Stiles whispers and swallows as Derek lets out a low-pitched rumble deep in his throat. "Because that's pretty medieval in a way that hasn't really swung back to become vintage yet."

"I'd tell you, but I don't want to spoil the... well, _my_ fun." Erica purrs and Stiles thinks she sounds like she's already having quite enough fun as it is.

Stiles is bright enough to decipher the situation, though, understanding that Derek isn't planning to kill him just yet. And even if he can't really see Derek's expression right now he still has the painfully aroused look on Scott's face from earlier branded on his retinal. It doesn't take much imagination to transfer that look to Derek's face, and the result in Stiles mind is not entirely unpleasant.

"Stiles?" Derek growls and it's more grunt than word. But at least Derek is regaining a bit of sense and that's a good thing, Stiles has to remind himself, because Derek is not actually a cuddly puppy and this is not a chick flick.

"What the fuck have you done, Stiles?" The Alpha growls. "You idiot, get out." But Derek isn't letting go and Stiles thinks that perhaps Derek isn't as much in control as his sudden rediscovery of words would have Stiles believe.

"I can't." Stiles tries to keep his tone soothing, but maybe it comes out a bit condescending. "Door locked. We trapped. No getting out."

Derek shifts slightly and the hot breath moves from Stiles' face to his neck and somehow the Alpha is even closer now. Stiles hadn't realized that he had closed his eyes, but the slight change in threat-level has his eyes flutter open and he realizes that he's able to see the dark outline of Derek's face. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"I'm going to let go of you." Derek says and it sounds mostly as if he's trying to convince himself. "And you're going to move away."

"Derek...?"

"Move!" Derek roars just as Stiles feels the grip on his shirt loosen and he stumbles backwards, out of Derek's reach, not stopping until his back hits the wall. Slowly he slides down the wall into a sitting position, heart pounding away, covering his ears to block out the sound as Derek starts moaning again.

"This is getting ridiculous." Erica complains after another fifteen minutes and Stiles can now see her moving around in her cell, pacing like a caged lioness. "Just get me out of here and I'll deal with him."

"You're not putting your hormonal paws anywhere near him." Stiles murmurs, but it doesn't come out quite as insolent as he was aiming for, because he's too busy being concerned to put on his usual swag.

"Well, well. Aren't we Mister Hypocritical?" She giggles, but Stiles is ignoring her, refusing to let her bait him. Instead he fumbles with the keys in his hands as he considers his possibilities.

Somewhere in the darkness Derek lets out a strained groan as if he's in actual pain; as far as Stiles knows he might very well be. The teen swears under his breath when Derek's moans slowly turns into a low whimper and even though he's still not sure what he's going to do about it, he knows that he can't just sit here while Derek is falling apart 20 feet away. So he takes a deep breath and crawls back to Derek's cell door, turning the key in the lock. He locks the cell door behind him, tossing the keys away again, just out of reach, so Derek won't be tempted to break out.

"I think I liked it better when I was just risking my neck for you." Stiles mumbles as he feels his way across the empty space of the cell. Derek is curled up on the cold floor in the far corner and Stiles kneels at his side, careful to keep his distance, but itching to touch and make sure Derek's okay.

"I don't know how to fix this!" He admits, voice breaking from panic.

"I have a few ideas." Erica says and Stiles can actually hear how wide her smile is. "Really Stiles, even you can't be that clueless."

"Shut up!" He yells and apparently the sound of Stiles voice has some kind of effect on Derek because the Alpha actually growls, wolf nails scratching holes in the concrete floor.

And that doesn't really do anything to stop Stiles' heart from pumping away at hyper speed and, yes, it's mostly fear of Derek decking him one or biting off Stiles' hands, which is also why Stiles is kind of hoping that Derek is so far gone that he won't know what is happening. But mostly he hopes that Derek is currently so high on Erica's pheromones that he won't pay attention to the way Stiles' heart is beating, the way the teen's emotions are giving him away, because Stiles is about to put his hands on Derek, about to touch him and get him off, make him moan for the right reasons and that is frankly not a completely unappealing thought, even if it does scare the hell out of him.

Still, he has no idea how to go about it, but decides that a bit of physical contact might calm them both down. Placing a shaking hand on Derek's chest actually does help a bit. He can feel Derek's heartbeat and it's almost as fast as his own, but the beats are somehow more powerful and Stiles wonders if it's the prolonged exposure to the pheromones or if werewolves just have bigger hearts.

"You're going to kill me for this. I know you're gonna kill me for this." Stiles babbles as he moves his hand lower and starts to fumble with the button and zipper of Derek's pants, pulling them down past his knees and going back for the briefs. He hovers for a moment, fingers at the top of the pale blue fabric. Stiles takes it as a good sign that he still has both his arms attached and when Derek lets out another broken moan Stiles throws all doubts aside, determinedly stripping Derek of his briefs as well.

The darkness should be a help, but it's not. Stiles can hear every moan and the way Derek's breath catches as Stiles' fingers close awkwardly around Derek's painfully hard cock. And he can smell Derek - sweat, precome and that smell of forest that seems to be a permanent part of Derek's own scent. Everything is rushing to Stiles' head at once and he tries not to get dizzy with it as he starts a slow slide up and down, going faster as he gathers more courage.

He runs his hand over the head, gathering enough sticky cum to make the slide easier even as he tightens his grip. Derek' body is relaxing in response to the attention it's finally - _finally_ \- receiving and the sounds becomes less painful and more greedy.

"It's okay." Stiles says and it's mainly to calm himself. But Derek is reacting to it as well, even if it's probably more the sound of Stiles' voice than the actual words, so Stiles keeps talking, because hey, words are good, words are what Stiles does best. " That's right, I've got you, wolf-boy. I've got you."

Stiles doesn't manage to get a steady rhythm going at any point, especially not when Derek starts thrusting into his hand. But that's about as much participation as Stiles gets, because Derek still has both hands pressed against the floor. Not that Stiles is complaining about that, because he's pretty sure Derek could easily break Stiles' wrist if he grabbed it just a bit to forcefully and for some reason this makes Stiles think that perhaps Derek is still at least partially aware of what's going on, restraining himself as much as possible.

There might have been a warning, but Stiles doesn't have the experience to notice it before Derek is cumming with a groan, thick and hot over Stiles' hand.

It takes a moment for Stiles to realize that he can actually see the white strings of goo between his fingers, taking a few seconds to stare at it, fascinated. He doesn't waste time wondering at his improved night sight, not until he looks past his own hand, finding Derek staring at him. His eyes aren't red anymore, just their usual bluish grey and he looks like he's unsure if he should yell or smile.

Of course Derek doesn't smile, not at Stiles anyway, but luckily he chooses not to yell either. "I can't believe you just did that." He mutters, half sitting up and resting back on his elbows. "You are such an idiot."

"You have the sweetest pillow talk, baby." Stiles deadpans, dragging his eyes away from Derek, just to find that the only other thing to look at his his cum-covered hand. He ends up refocusing of Derek's face.

"Why are you here, Stiles?" Derek asks, but he doesn't sound angry or even resentful. He just sounds tired - looks tired too - as he pulls up his briefs, ignoring his pants.

"Well… Because you needed it…" Stiles snaps, and it's ridiculous really, that he should still have to explain this to Derek, because there's a lot of bad blood, sure, but when has Stiles ever not been there when Derek needed him?

"Yeah? Well, right now I need you to get out of this cell." Derek says and some of his usual growl is returning to his voice, even if it still sounds uneven and slightly broken. "It's really just going to get worse."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I assume you managed to get locked in here, which doesn't surprise me one bit." He sits up and leans against the wall, ignoring the way Stiles glares at him. "But unless we can get out of this cellar this is not going to get better. This will just take the edge off for a moment."

"It's better than nothing, though. Right? I don't see why you have to be in pain, I mean. I know you're a stubborn asshole, but still."

"How would you feel about jerking off in front of Scott?" Derek counters and Stiles is completely thrown by the question, so he just does his best fish-on-land imitation. "You see, that's my kid sister in there." Derek continues. "For all intents and purpose she's family. And it'll just be a matter of hours before she doesn't even remember that herself, because that's what Heat does to a wolf. That's why we lock the women up to begin with. Not just to protect them from the men, but also to protect them from themselves. Because Heat is basically temporary insanity."

"I'm right here, you know!" Erica chips in.

"Yeah?" Derek says, and he almost sounds amused. "And how are you feeling?"

"A bit traumatized and really, really horny." She answers without hesitation. Derek looks at Stiles as if that settles everything and Stiles really wishes he was still night blind.

"Let's just hope Scott is smart enough to send Allison here when you've been missing long enough." Derek says and Stiles hears it in his voice, that he's starting to shake and Stiles isn't self-destructive enough to look, but he's pretty sure Derek is already hard again.

"Look, " Stiles presses. "Erica is a big girl, she can just close her pointy ears."

"I'm not sure I want to." Erica says, voice dipping deep and challenging.

"No!" Derek insists. "You're kids, both of you. I'm not going to... I won't." He says without actually saying anything, but Stiles isn't having it.

"I'm not a child Derek! When you were my age you weren't exactly innocent!"

"And look where that got me!" Derek is still shaking, nails scraping against the concrete floor as he tries to reel himself in again, to fall back into that catatonic/zen state where he won't risk jumping Stiles just because he's convenient, but Stiles is determined not to let him.

And he's not sure why, not sure why he's not willing to let Derek crawl back into his own head, except Derek Hale doesn't belong in a cage - not even an imaginary one.

"Hey!" He moves closer and uses his clean hand to slap Derek gently on the cheek. "Listen Derek, I know you're stubborn and a frigging martyr, okay? I know! But you can have…" And Stiles searches Derek's face, looking for some kind of sign that he's not wasting breath here. "You can have what ever you want, Derek. Okay? I'm not joking - I wouldn't joke about this."

Derek finally opens his eyes and they are blood red. "I'm going to hurt you." He says and it's deep and feral and nothing like the broken voice he had five minutes ago.

"Yeah." Stiles swallows nervously. "Yeah you probably are. And that wouldn't be the first time either." He says, trying to keep the tone light. "But you know, I heal pretty quickly… for a human, that is." He adds and smiles.

Derek watches him, head tilted, small smile playing on his lips. And then he moves, slowly and deliberately, crowding into Stiles' space. Stiles has to remind himself that not only did he just agree to this, he basically asked for it, because right now he's pretty sure it wasn't one of his brightest moves.

Derek leans in and buries his face in the crook of Stiles' neck, greedily breathing him in.

"I'm sorry." Derek whispers, fingers making circles around Stiles' thin wrists, pinning the one covered in cum to the floor and sliding his hand up the other arm until it's resting around Stiles' neck, applying the smallest amount of pressure. "This is the best I can do to make it better." And then Stiles feels sharp nails digging into the back of his neck, just over his spine and after a few seconds of blinding pain, something else starts to mix and mingle into his thoughts. Slowly Stiles feels himself getting overwhelmed with what he assumes is Derek's lust bleeding over into Stiles.

It's too much, but not nearly enough and suddenly he's whimpering under Derek, moving to find something to press against.

"I'm wearing too many clothes." He finds himself groaning just as Derek licks a long trail from Stiles' collarbone to just below his ear, stopping there to breathe: " _You really are_ ," in a rumble that has Stiles mewling with pure lust.

Derek's fingers wrap themselves in Stiles' hair and Stiles thinks absentmindedly that it was worth letting his hair grow that extra inch longer, just for this. And then the Alpha's mouth is on his, wet and rough and demanding and Stiles takes it all and gives everything he has, pressing back into the kiss. He slides his tongue against Derek's, slick and perfect and Stiles isn't even sure when his free hand ended up in Derek's thick mane of hair, tugging and pulling him in closer. But then Derek is pulling away and even though Stiles tries to chase his lips, Derek manages to disentangle himself from Stiles' one-handed hold with little effort.

And then suddenly Stiles' mind is clear again. He's still aroused, there's no getting around that, but he's able to think clearly and he stares up at Derek, wide-eyed and breathless.

"I want you to say it again." Derek says and he's not being terribly specific, but Stiles still understands. He understands why Derek has drawn out of his head and made sure Stiles is himself for this, so Stiles just swallows and tries not to blink when he locks his own brown eyes with the Alpha's red.

"You can have what ever you want." Stiles repeats with out hesitation. "Just, please." He adds and reaches up to grab Derek's hair again, pulling him back into a kiss even as Derek lets go and lust bleeds back into Stiles, taking away every shred of fear and self-consciousness.

Stiles moves, climbing on top of Derek the best he can with a hand still pinned to the floor. Derek smiles into the kiss and lifts Stiles' hand from the floor, looking at the sticky cum still stringing between Stiles' fingers when he spreads them. With an agile flex of muscles Stiles finds himself being pushed back and lifted to his feet.

Derek hands quickly free Stiles of his pants and underwear, leaving on his short-sleeved t-shirt after a few seconds of deliberation. Derek wraps an arm around Stiles waist, leaning in close, moist breath tickling Stiles' ear. "I need you now." He whispers, voice uneven and rough. "I need to be inside you. To feel you. I want you so fucking much."

Stiles isn't even trying to stifle the moan that escapes his mouth, but Derek's mouth makes at least an attempt at it, swallowing Stiles' next greedy sound and replacing it with his own deep groan. He lifts Stiles off the floor and places him on the pile of their discarded clothes, taking the sticky hand and leading it down between Stiles' legs. Derek drags one finger over the surface of Stiles' palm, collecting a coating of cum and reaching further back to smear it around the soft rim of Stiles' ass. But he doesn't push in, though, just returns to take a hold of Stiles' hand, pulling it down.

"I want to watch you do it." Derek whispers in his ear and licks a wet trail along Stiles' jaw line, catching Stiles' mouth when he passes it. And Stiles doesn't need to be told twice, pressing into himself with a surety and practice that he has no idea where he got. Maybe it's bleeding through from Derek as well. The thought has his head spinning and it's easy to add another finger, using Derek's cum as a sparse but efficient lubricant. He's almost forgotten that Derek is watching, but when he looks up and sees the way the Alpha is looking at him with naked lust, breath catching as he exhales, Stiles almost cums right then and there.

"You have no idea how amazing you look like that." Derek mumbles, just loud enough for Stiles' human ears to hear. "You're so ridiculously beautiful."

Stiles huffs out a shallow breath, trying to keep his voice even. "I bet you say that to all the boys."

"I've never said that to anyone." Derek admits and for just a moment Stiles is enough himself, level-headed enough, to fully appreciate this fact. He pulls Derek's face in, letting the Alpha slide his tongue into his mouth. He licks against it with his own, tasting and teasing and enjoying the feel of it, the perfection of it.

"I need you." Stiles moans, close to a whine. "I'm so incredibly ready now, you have no fucking idea."

Derek doesn't waste breath on a reply, instead lifting Stiles up to straddle his lap, leaning back against the cold wall. "Like this." Derek says. "You're in charge, because I won't be able to hold back and I don't want to hurt you."

"I can take it." Stiles breathes defiantly, but Derek just laughs a completely broken laugh, spitting into his own hand.

"Trust me, you can't. You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself right now from just throwing you on the floor and fucking you until you cant even beg for more."

"Is that what you would do if I was a female werewolf?" Stiles asks and watches wide-eyed as Derek slicks his own cock up with spit.

"If you were a female werewolf," Derek says and his smile is completely feral. "I would fuck you over and over again and we would be a complete mess by the time we had both burned each other out. And even then you would be begging for more and you would be able to take it. You'd be able to heal every bite, every broken bone."

Stiles swallows audibly, wonders if he looks as disheveled and horny as he feels. Derek just smiles and leans in, letting his fangs scrape demonstrative against Stiles exposed throat.

"Of course then you'd get knocked up and have my babies, so maybe this is not such a bad trade-off." He teases, but Stiles isn't even listening. He's moving, hovering over Derek's cock, feeling the blunt pressure of it against this loose hole and when he lowers himself steadily, slowly, his fingers are digging into Derek's shoulders, just to ground himself.

Derek lets out a deep groan as Stiles bottoms out and it's so close to a victory roar that Stiles can actually feel his entire body react to it and every fiber in his body is wanting to surrender, to lay down and let the Alpha have his way with him.

Apparently Derek is thinking along the same lines, at least he thinks it's finally time to strip Stiles of his t-shirt, baring Stiles chest to the cold air in the cellar. "I need..." Derek just growls, and it's as if he's finally lost himself so much that he can't form coherent sentences. "Want. All of you. Need to touch."

And Stiles can only agree, because it's not nearly enough, not even with Derek inside him, not even as Stiles starts moving in a somewhat even pace, faster and faster as he gets the hang of it, Derek's deep moans edging him on.

"You feel so fucking amazing." Derek growls, completely overwhelmed by the way Stiles isn't just taking it, but moaning and gasping, breathlessly begging for more. "Oh my Go- Oh God, yes."

Stiles can feel how close he is, but he can also clearly feel how close Derek is, the newly formed bond letting every single wave of pleasure bleed through and just the thought of it makes Stiles high with power and want.

Derek is still pressing his hands flat against the floor and as his eyes flash completely blood-red with his release Stiles can only be grateful, because he's not sure his skin and bones would have taken favorably to the damages Derek hands and nails leave on the concrete floor.

Stiles is actually pretty surprised that he still isn't cumming, because he's pretty sure his teenage body isn't supposed to last this well. But as Derek looks up at him, eyes grey in the darkness, Stiles realizes that it's because Derek isn't letting him.

"I can effect your mind, not your body." Derek explains when he realizes that Stiles is catching on. "You're a teen, but you still have a considerably longer recuperation period than I do right now." He leans in to rest his head against Stiles', tongue darting out to lick along Stiles' bottom lip. "I don't want to wear you out."

"How long?" Stiles asks, even though he knows that Derek has no better way of knowing than Stiles does.

"Until you walk away." Derek says, voice suddenly serious. "You can walk out of this cell any time you want to, lock it behind you and wait to be rescued."

"And what if we get rescued and I'm not done with you yet?" Stiles asks, but it's an empty threat, because Stiles knows he can't keep strength until morning. He has two, maybe three hours left in him, and that's if they slow down.

"Then I will personally drag you back to your house, haul you into the shower and drop you in your bed and you will be out cold before I even have time to escape out the window." Derek says, smiling. He leans in again, breathing Stiles in and planting soft kisses to his neck and shoulder. "And then I'll run away and hide away in shame from what I did to you and you'll never see me again." He continues, but Stiles can hear the lie in his voice, even if he couldn't feel it seeping through their make-shift bond.

"Promises, promises." Stiles teases and shivers as Derek runs gentle hands up and down his naked sides, following the outside of Stiles' thighs to his knees and stroking back along the inside. Stiles bites his bottom lip as Derek wraps a large hand around his still-hard cock, stroking it slowly a few times and then their eyes meet in the darkness.

Derek's eyes aren't red yet, just on the verge of animal lust still, instead the pupils are huge, making his eyes jet black and Stiles wonders if his own looks like that right now, because that's exactly how he feels.

"Ready again?" Derek asks and his voice is feral.

"You have no idea." Stiles counters and Derek eyes flashes red, burning dangerously in the dark cell.

The storm rages on.

*************************************

It's morning when Allison forces the heavy steel door open, judging by the soft light that streams into the cellar. She moves a fallen branch to block the door open, proving how much smarter she is than the rest of them, even though the storm outside seems to have died down during the night.

She doesn't comment on their sleeping arrangements, in fact the smug smile on her face tells Stiles that she was expecting it. Taking the keys from the floor she unlocks Derek's and Stiles' cell, ignoring Erica completely, because that's probably some bad blood that will fester 'till all eternity.

"Scott told me to tell you that you called in sick today." She says to Stiles and hands him a bottle of water. "And that your dad is overlooking your complete disregard for your grounding only because Scott went by your house and cried. Actual tears." She says with a proud smile. "Your dad has a heart of gold and I'm the horrible bitch of the hour once again, breaking Scott's heart into a thousand bleeding pieces."

"Thank you." Stiles says and pulls his t-shirt back on. Stiles and Derek follow Allison out into the fresh air and Derek does a full body shiver as the clean air hits his lungs. When they make no move to let Erica out Allison frowns slightly.

"You know I was kidding about not letting her out." She points out.

"Well, we're not." Derek sighs. "She has to stay here, it's best for us and it's best for her. You and Stiles just have to take turns at bringing her food and water."

"Stiles will." Allison corrects and Derek just nods, even though it's clear that he wishes that Allison would bury her grudge against Erica and join their pack, like she had Scott's. "I have to get to school." She says, quickly, as if she can feel what Derek is thinking.

But she can't, Stiles thinks. Only he can, because the bond is still complete. Now, however, there's nothing but softness and calm bleeding through from Derek and it's far less violating in it's strength.

"How long will this last?" Stiles asks, as his fingers comes up to brush against the sore puncture wounds in his neck.

"Until they have healed." Derek answers, lowering the steel bar on the door, leaving Erica alone in the darkness. "Until then you are stuck with me."

"I could stand being stuck with your for a lot longer than that." Stiles admits and he thinks it's the bond, the connection to Derek that's allowing him to say such things with out them feeling pushy or ridiculous, or even cheesy. "I think I could stand a lot more than just having you inside my head, actually."

Derek doesn't smile, not at Stiles anyway, except right now he does. Now he really doesn't know how to stop, even as he pulls Stiles into a kiss that turns maybe a bit dirtier than either of them really have the strength for right now.

**Author's Note:**

> First ever porny fic! Leave Review/Comments if you enjoyed reading it! As always you can follow me on Tumblr, if you so choose. 
> 
> http://flyingassassin.tumblr.com/
> 
> And I do hope you enjoyed. This was an idea that came to me, while reading the many well written Heat fics out there. I just wanted to give it my own twist and when it came down to it I knew I couldn't pull it off with out going quite a bit dirtier than I had ever gone before, but it turned out I didn't mind writing the smut as much as I had thought.


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